


Almost Home

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Dean watches as you sleep in the backseat and wonders if he should tell you how he feels.~





	Almost Home

The gentle rocking of the Impala lulled you to sleep as it sped down the darkened highway. You’d gotten used to this over the past few months, the constant grueling schedule of hunting broken up by hours of mindless driving. The backseat had become your home. The cracked leather upholstery your bed; the windowsill your pillow. How strange to find comfort in the low vibrations that rattled through the door as you pressed your forehead against the glass.

As you drove on, the clear sky became even darker as rain clouds extinguished the stars and a light rain began to fall. Droplets crashed into your window and chased each other silently across your vision, pushed on by the wind and the speed of the car. Dean flipped on the wipers, their rhythmic swoosh adding another layer to the soothing noises around you. The tapping of rain on the metal hood, the roaring groan of the engine, Sam’s fingers scanning and then turning each page in the book on his lap, Dean’s hands quietly drumming on the steering wheel. These were the sounds you loved most, sounds that calmed you, allowed you to relax and let the tension fall from your shoulders, if only for a little while. With a deep, contented sigh you let your eyes fall closed and you tucked your arms around yourself, drifting slowly into slumber.

Dean kept a watchful eye on you through the mirror, his lips curling into a secret smile while he watched you relax. You let out a gentle snore as your head dropped backwards onto the tall seat. He exhaled in a tiny laugh that roused Sam’s attention and the younger brother looked up with a questioning gaze.

“What’s up?”

Dean shook his head and cleared his throat, looking back at the road. “Nothing,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper.

Sam shrugged, turning back to his book. He watched from the corner of his eye as Dean’s gaze drifted back up to the rearview mirror, lingering there and drawing another soft smile across his face. Sam turned his head and peeked at you, your sleeping face framed by the space between his seat and door. He nodded and turned back to Dean, understanding his brother’s happiness.

“You should tell her,” Sam said, looking down at his book once more, the light from his phone illuminating the text.

Dean pursed his lips, shushing his brother, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He set his shoulders and gripped the wheel as he adjusted himself in the seat. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“She makes you happy Dean. You should let her know.”

When there was no reply from the driver, Sam went back to reading, leaving the front seat in silence. Dean drove on through the rain, his body doing the work while his mind wandered into the backseat with you. Even in these quiet moments when you weren’t saying a word, weren’t doing a thing, he felt a lightening in his chest, his heart swelling at the very thought of you. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe when you woke up, he’d tell you how he felt; but Dean wasn’t good with words, he’d have to show you. Perhaps a grand gesture would be best for you, showing up at your door with a dozen red roses; but no, that wasn’t your style, or his. Maybe he could cook you dinner and confess his love over burgers lit by candlelight; romantic, but not enough.

The miles flew by as Dean pondered his move. His ears perked as you stirred behind him, waking slowly and stretching your arms above your head.

“Are we there yet?” you croaked through a yawn.

Dean bit his lip, trying not to smile at the fluttering your voice caused in his stomach. “Almost home Sweetheart.” He turned to look at your over his shoulder and you smiled at him as you settled back against the window. That’s when he knew. The minute the car was in park, the second you stepped out of the backseat, the very moment you were by his side again, he was going to grab your face between his hands and show you how he felt in the only way he knew how: with his lips pressed to yours.


End file.
